


Burning

by tableturret



Series: Fireteam Fruitloops [4]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: One Shot, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 19:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tableturret/pseuds/tableturret
Summary: Thoughts of one Guardian as the Red Legion sweeps over the city.





	Burning

I was there when the Red Legion came.

I was there when the skies burned orange, crimson ships searing the clouds away.

When the ground shook beneath my feet. When gunfire rang out in the smoke. When the Cabal came to take our Light.

A scream. A child’s cry.

The Last City, the bastion of hope built by many careful hands under the light of the Traveler, crumbling to pieces under the barrage of bullets and bombs, before my very eyes.

I was there to protect them when the walls fell. It was not unlike another battle long ago. With civilians I walked, shielded with my body, defended with my gun. I walked with them through the ashes, through the dust, through the smoke.

A place they once thought to be impenetrable, a place that cradled them, wrapped them in safety, lost in a manner of minutes.

I could see the light in their eyes fade. I could hear the anguish in the air.

Forward, forward. Push forward into the woods. Into the Wilds. Past all that you know and all that you love.

I was there when the Light faded from my soul, fingertips grasping onto me, only to lose grip and drift away. My Ghost shivered as I held him against my chest.

The Guardians around me were no more. We stood with the people of the City. We were the people of the City. Simple soldiers stood together.

It was the Hunters who led the charge. Not roaring through glorious battlefields, but sneaking around trees, around buildings, around old, forgotten structures. Capturing game for the hungry. Locating water for the thirsty. Teaching those willing to learn the secrets to survival.

It was the Titans who kept morale strong. Their way with words could inspire rocks to sing. They held the line as we led the people out. They were the first to fall. Each wave they repelled was another wave won. Another chance to survive.

It was the Warlocks who told tales to spread their knowledge, to entertain the weary. They worked tirelessly to preserve our histories, to salvage all the knowledge held within the Archives. Each Cryptarch lost was another step backwards for humanity.

We all pushed on.

It was hard on the Warlocks, to lose their Light. For all Guardians, it had been an ally in battle, a tool in research, a constant, a friend.

We all pushed on.

I lost many Guardians, many friends, but not one civilian died on the way to the Farm. We knew our place. We knew our duty.

I took the path from the Farm to the City hundreds of times. Always on the lookout for the lost. Past Twilight Gap, past the EDZ. Past the fallen bodies of my comrades.

There were those who fled as well. Those Guardians who could not face a reality where their Light was not theirs. Hunters who disappeared into the woods, never to be seen again. Titans who, with torn marks and shattered armor, fought only for themselves. Warlocks who cowered in the rubble, who feared for their lives and thus let that fear overtake them.

We remember those Guardians. We push ourselves to overcome their failures. We do not forget how easy it is to fall.

My hopes are set on The Guardian. It is they who can bring us back to our Light. Firza has seen it, in his last resurrection. A solitary figure following a great bird to the Shard of the Traveler. Light burst from them, dripped from them like silvery water.

I was there when the Red Legion came.

But I will be here when they are defeated.


End file.
